


many splendored

by triforced



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Blow Jobs, Fluff, M/M, dumb boys, i have nothing to say for myself anymore, plot is on vacation, tooth decay imminent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:52:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6747298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforced/pseuds/triforced
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukki's hand spasms before his fingers become a vice, digging into his scalp, though Yamaguchi doesn't mind so much, doesn't mind at all, really, not when Tsukki makes a noise that seems as if it was ripped out of him, torn from someplace deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	many splendored

Sometimes, Yamaguchi Tadashi's feelings for Tsukishima Kei are many splendored things, full of light and life, the stuff of poetry, the patterns you see when you look through a kaleidoscope. There are days he wakes up in the morning, brimming over with so much like he can barely stand it, and he's pretty sure everyone else will notice, everyone else has noticed.

Especially Tsukki.

On those days, he is a bit more tolerant of the way Yamaguchi presses close to his side, closer than strictly necessary, the way their fingers brush together, the way Yamaguchi's glances are not as guarded in the halls. He allows himself to be pulled into shadowy alcoves where nobody can find them and kissed until his lips are numb - or until they run out of time, whichever occurs first. He doesn't mind when Yamaguchi nudges at his foot under their desks during lunch; occasionally, he'll even nudge back.

Sometimes, Yamaguchi Tadashi's feelings for Tsukishima Kei are subtle, quiet, a sleek black cloth to clean glasses with, an eraser passed between them in class, a lopsided grin. They are favorite snacks appearing in school bags and coins offered at a shrine. They are Tsukki stretched out on the grass with his headphones up and Yamaguchi beside him, his back against a solid tree trunk, eyes closed, the breeze in his hair. He can't imagine himself anyplace else, nor would he wish to.

Sometimes, Yamaguchi Tadashi's feelings for Tsukishima Kei are loud, abrasive, a half step from wild, a pot simmering on a stove, about to boil. They are unbridled laughter at Tsukki's barbed quips, his masterful weapons of mass destruction that can take anybody apart. They are Yamaguchi's painful, scratchy throat after yelling himself hoarse from the sidelines of a match. They are fingers bunched in a shirt, Yamaguchi as tall as he's ever been, taller than Tsukki, taller than anybody, the cool one, finally. The one that pushes. The one that sparks a change.

Sometimes, Yamaguchi Tadashi's feelings for Tsukishima Kei are all of these things at once.

"Please - "

Through his eyelashes, Yamaguchi sees Tsukki grab whatever he can reach, the rumpled sheets at first, gripping so tight his knuckles are white.

"Yamaguchi - please - "

He keeps one hand wrapped up in the sheets, brings the other to Yamaguchi's head, his touch gentle, as if he's afraid to hold on with as much force as Yamaguchi knows he's capable of. Yamaguchi hums in response, breathes through his nose (don't forget to breathe, the sources say, and breathe often), flattens his tongue a little more so he can slide down just a bit further, slowly, steadily. Not all the way, he's too new at this and he still has a gag reflex, but he's able to take much more than he thought he could, which makes warmth pool in his stomach. He sucks on the way up, pauses at the tip, flicks his tongue across it, then sinks back down.

Tsukki's hand spasms before his fingers become a vice, digging into his scalp, though Yamaguchi doesn't mind so much, doesn't mind at all, really, not when Tsukki makes a noise that seems as if it was ripped out of him, torn from someplace deep.

"Holy shit," he rasps, and he sounds so ravaged he can barely get the words out, all traces of his calm, unflappable demeanor having fled to a remote corner of the universe. Yamaguchi likes what is left behind, is called to this version of Tsukki on an instinctual level, wants to hear him sound the way he just did over and over and over again. He feels selfish, to some degree.

He feels powerful.

Which is a sharp contrast to how he felt at the start. He was so nervous about doing this he wanted to puke up all of his digestive organs - he still remembered his first serve in a real match, after all, and what a disaster that was. He almost chickened out, too, but then he got Tsukki up to his room (for studying, of course), then he got Tsukki on his bed, then he got Tsukki's glasses off, his shirt rucked up, his pants halfway down his legs.

Then he got Tsukki in his mouth.

So here they are.

Yamaguchi Tadashi is nothing if not tenacious.

And, judging by the way Tsukishima Kei writhes beneath him, both of his hands buried in Yamaguchi's hair, his head thrown back (the better to accentuate his long, glorious neck), his eyes squeezed shut, his lips parted, emitting the kinds of sounds Yamaguchi didn't know another human being was capable of making, he's not doing too bad a job. He'll get better with practice, so long as Tsukki lets him practice, and he's pretty sure that won't be much of an issue. For now, though, he's content with the way his jaw aches, with the way Tsukki fits in his mouth, with the texture of him on his tongue. He's content with the way his own hands hold Tsukki's trembling hips against the mattress, with the way their eyes meet suddenly, unexpectedly, when Tsukki looks down at him. Oh, he thinks, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment, I like being watched, I like when he watches me.

He is learning new things about himself, apparently.

" _Yamaguchi_ \- " Tsukki's voice is a warning, and Yamaguchi knows what it means, but he doesn't stop, doesn't pull away, even as Tsukki's entire body tenses, even as something warm and salty fills his mouth - the taste is...strange, a little unpleasant, maybe, except he knows he wants to taste it again. He swallows as much as he can while Tsukki's wide, dark eyes are on him, his expression a study of desire and shock both intermingled. "You - you're insane," he whispers, pleasure having taken his breath away.

True statement, perhaps. Yamaguchi doesn't care a whit. He draws back, thoroughly wipes his mouth and chin on his sleeve - he'll have to change his shirt. "Lucky for you, Tsukki." If he were to hazard a guess, he'd say his grin is on the predatory side, all teeth.

"...Insane and an ass," Tsukki says, though when he sits up and drags Yamaguchi toward him, his kiss is soft, so soft Yamaguchi wants to die. Will he ever get enough? Probably not.

Sometimes, Yamaguchi Tadashi's feelings for Tsukishima Kei are a cool breath of air on a crisp fall day, leaves crunching underfoot, the sun screened behind wisps of clouds.

Many splendored things.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. THESE BOYS. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed. <3


End file.
